


The Correct Answer is None of the Above

by GoddessofBirth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship Status, Angst, Boys Bonding, Don't let anyone tell you different, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Stiles is pack mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles goes on a mission of mercy to help the newest fugitive in Derek's pack (and really, is being wanted by the police some sort of initiation requirement?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Correct Answer is None of the Above

**Author's Note:**

> This fits vaguely within the "Tag You're It" series, but can be read as a standalone. Can be taken as shippy, or gen, depending; frankly I'm not sure where they're going, either.

Stiles feels a little like Red Riding Hood, as he throws the box onto the passengers' side of his baby and climbs in, taking the path to the Hale house, or, if he extends the metaphor, to grandmother's house, that has been taken over by a wolf. Werewolf, to be exact. And his newest pack member.

 

At least he isn't wearing red. He'd made a deliberate choice there, actually changing from the gray baseball shirt with the rust red sleeves, into a nice, boring, plaid button up before setting out. No use tempting fate; Stiles does that enough on a good day.

 

And today? Today is not a good day. He's grounded for eternity, there's a dead hunter lying in the morgue, and he helped stage a jail break last night. And out in the woods, holed up in an abandoned crime scene of a house, a teenage boy is stuck with nobody but Derek Hale for company. Even if Isaac did try to filet him, that's cruel and unusual punishment for _anyone_. Derek doesn't even have electricity or running water – Stiles momentarily gets distracted by trying to figure out how Derek manages to maintain his perfectly mussed coif in that mess, before he recovers his train of thought – much less a PlayStation, or a Wii, or anything else remotely entertaining to a sixteen year old fugitive. 

 

Therefore, Stiles is going on a mission of mercy. Inside the small box opposite him is an old iPod he had stuck in the back of his underwear drawer, reloaded with some of the best underground bands of the day – he's not sure, but he thinks Isaac seems the type – his Kindle (3G connected so Isaac can at least get online; Stiles will have to work out recharges, but it's better than nothing), a random selection of comic books, and a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. To round things out, he's added a pile of candy from his own personal stores – kept underneath his bed where his dad can't find it. Derek's probably making Isaac live on bunny rabbits and deer, and that...that's just gross.

 

At the last minute, remembering the fact that Derek seems to rotate between three different shirts, and Isaac came with the clothes on his back, Stiles rummages around in his drawers for a few spare outfits, and they're stuffed in the box with everything else. At least he won't have to worry about them getting all stretched out, like the last shirt he'd sacrificed to the werewolf cause; Isaac is pretty much the same build as Stiles - he might even be a little scrawnier, something Stiles hadn't been sure was possible.

 

When he pulls up in front of the Hale house, he half expects Derek to be waiting on the porch, but everything is quiet and still. Dead. After the full moon, and Derek's crack of dawn visit, maybe all werewolves are snug in their beds, sleeping off the shift, but since Derek has no problem popping into Stiles' room, regardless of day or time, Stiles has no regrets about flinging the front door open and waltzing inside, yelling “Hey, Grumpy! Come out, come out wherever you are!”

 

There's a flash of movement to the side, and he turns just in time to see Isaac bolt from the rotted couch and across the room, flattening himself against the wall opposite the door. His chest is heaving and his eyes rolling wildly as he stares at Stiles.

 

'Whoa...whoa there, buddy. Just me. See?' He can't hold his hands out because he's got the box in them, but he tries to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible. Which shouldn't be  _too_ hard, seeing as Stiles is probably the least threatening person out there. Isaac doesn't relax, though, so Stiles asks carefully,

 

'Is Derek here?'

 

Isaac shakes his head, a quick, jerky motion.

 

'Well, good, because I'm not here to see him.' Stiles smiles and holds the box out. 'I come bearing gifts.'

 

Isaac still doesn't move, just keeps watching Stiles warily, a pinched look on his face. Stiles takes a step into the room and Isaac just...Isaac  _freezes_ , and then actually tries to push himself further into the wall.

 

'Wow, dude, seriously! Relax. I'm not gonna hurt you...pretty sure I actually  _couldn't_ . Chill.'

 

Isaac's eyes dart around the room and he licks his lips before saying quietly, 'Derek said - '

 

It takes Stiles about five seconds to make sense of what Isaac means, but when he does, he rolls his eyes and makes his way to the couch, dumping the box on one of the cushions. 'The whole red eyes and teeth thing? That was all about, like, not chomping on me. Not don't come near me ever or he'll Alpha your ass down. You know that, right?' He narrows his eyes at Isaac, tries to tell himself that no way would Derek go there, not after he promised Stiles to be careful of the other teen, but Derek is still such an unknown quantity, especially with his ascension to Alpha, that Stiles has to ask.

 

'He didn't...do...anything to you, because of that, right? Didn't try to punish - '

 

Isaac cuts him off with another frantic head shake, and Stiles relaxes. Derek changing Isaac was supposed to have empowered him, not given him a new adult to fear, but if all Isaac can do is swing wildly between werewolf violence and frightened child, it's not doing him much good.

 

Did Derek even stop to  _think_ ?

 

'So, yeah, anyway, Peter Pan –' Isaac looks utterly confused at the reference, but it's better than him looking scared, '– peel your shadow off that wall and come see what I brought you.'

 

Isaac slowly and reluctantly moves toward him, but stops a good five feet away from the couch. 'Why?' His voice is mumbly, but not incoherent. Stiles kind of wants to kick himself in the back of the head. He's known...well, maybe not  _known_ , but shared locker room space and bench space and a lacrosse field with Isaac for two years; how could he not have figured out what was happening to him? The signs are screaming clear now that he knows to look for them, and it's not like Stiles' dad hadn't brought home a kid or three like Isaac for a few days, while Child Services was trying to shuffle them into the system; if he'd seen it sooner, maybe Isaac wouldn't be stuck here, like this, in the middle of what is now a war zone.

 

But Stiles doesn't voice any of that, because what's done is done, and unlike Scott, he knows there's no use whining about it. The only thing to do is to deal with what's in front of you. So he rolls his eyes again.

 

'Why? Because Derek's not exactly a great conversationalist, and his idea of fun is probably chasing small, furry creatures through the woods. Just thought you might like something to actually  _do_ . And, you know, clothes to wear and stuff. Not like you can go home anytime soon.'

 

'I tried to...you know.' Isaac makes a weird sort of clawing motion with one hand, and Stiles wants to laugh, but he doesn't, because Isaac has taken a few steps closer. Stiles is going to have  _words_ with Derek after this, because while he might have been shy at school, Isaac was never like this; whatever had been exchanged over the werewolf growl-ways at the jail last night must have been some seriously scary stuff.

 

'Pfft,' Stiles does an exaggerated head roll to go with the sound. 'Do you know how many times Scott has tried to kill me since he got bitten? Like...dozens. And he's my best friend. One little freak out? Doesn't even register anymore. Not that –' he adds hastily, '– not that I'm, you know, encouraging any further attempts at...at that. My skin is very fragile you know. Baby soft.'

 

Isaac's eyes flick over him before he ducks his head, and Stiles gets the distinct impression he's just been  _checked out_ , which, okay, wow, that's new. And he's probably totally misreading a normal werewolf thing, anyway, so he shrugs it off and digs into the box. He carelessly throws the stash of clothes on the floor and pulls out the stack of comics. The ultimate test of future friendship has arrived.

 

'So,' he holds a comic in each hand. 'DC or Marvel?'

 

Isaac takes several halting steps, finally reaching the arm of the coach. Stiles looks at him expectantly, and Isaac says slowly, carefully, 'I prefer Image. Do you have any Kabuki?'

 

A wide grin spreads across Stiles' face and he drops the comics to the floor before diving back into the stack.

 

* * * * * * * * 

 

They sit next to each other on the couch as they chew on Twizzlers and flip through Kabuki, and another half dozen of David Mack's works that Stiles brought – he makes a note to bring his whole Image box tomorrow – and he finds out Isaac is just as twitchy as he is. Not in the same way, not in a way that has his fingers constantly tapping, and his leg jiggling and his teeth chewing on his lip, but in a way that has Isaac flinching almost imperceptibly back any time Stiles makes an unexpected move. Which, Stiles being Stiles, is a lot.

 

He hates it, the idea that anybody would every be wary of  _him_ – well, okay, he wouldn't be upset if hunters and werewolves and whatever the hell that thing was that Scott and Allison saw last night, were maybe just a little scared of him, just not somebody like  _Isaac_ – but he thinks he can use those flinches, and how quickly they fade away, as a measure of how well Derek is doing with the fear vs. trust thing. He'll know if Derek actually listened to him, or if he's going to have to gird up his balls for another heart to heart with someone who could literally rip his face off.

 

Thirty minutes before Stiles has to leave to make it home before his dad, he reaches over Isaac to grab another comic, and...nothing. No twitch, no flinch, no sudden intake of breath that Isaac covers up with a cough. Isaac doesn't even look up from Kabuki stabbing a katana through her maker's spine.

 

Stiles bites down on a grin, settles back against the couch with an old issue of Witchblade, and puts a tick mark in the 'win' column.


End file.
